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' truce? '
WITH A SIGH, Bailey pressed her back to the cool outer wall of the Big House, taking a moment to recollect her thoughts. Quest, Stoll, broken leg, Apollo, certain death. Yeah that summarized it pretty well. She let her eyes fall closed for a few seconds, a linting moment of peace that she was sure wouldn't last. When she opened her eyes again Connor was next to her.
"I'm sorry." he spoke quietly, opposite to his usual rowdy behavior.
"What for?" there was an undertone of bite to Bailey's tone, but then again, no more than usual. Connor Stoll was a whole lot of things, but sorry usually wasn't one of them.
"I had the dream, I confirmed it was you, I can't help but feel partially responsible that you're a part of this altogether." She glanced at him, warm brown eyes washing over churning blue ones.
"Don't be a tonto Stoll. The fates never let us escape destiny for long." She spoke quietly too, now. "Are you my first pick for a quest buddy? Not exactly. Am I going to sit here and complain? No."
"I'm still sorry." Connor said, shrugging his shoulders. "I know you hate me, and I know not much will change that— but I just want you to know that I never wanted you to have to be a part of this." Bailey glanced back up at him. Part of her wanted to relent and put her hand on his shoulder and claim she didn't hate him— but the truth was she just didn't know yet.
When they were younger it was easier. He would pull at her pigtails and boast of his superior rowing skills. She could easily justify hating him, with all the teasing and pranks. Now, it was harder to hate him. Sure, he still poked fun at her, and she still cursed him out in spanish, but Connor Stoll had become more and more likeable over the years. With his big blue eyes and annoying boyish charm. Especially now, as he apologized repeatedly for something even Bailey couldn't blame him for.
"I never liked you, Stoll, I didn't keep that a secret. But this— this is something bigger than us." Connor glanced up, when she held out her hand. "Truce?"
Connor enveloped their hands. "Truce."
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ
3 hours later, Bailey panned her eyes across a ping-pong table, almost laughing humorlessly at the sight. At one end of the long, green, folding table— sat Apollo. He was much taller than the the campers, with a bright golden aura that almost made you want to buy a very expensive pair of sunglasses. At the other end was Chiron, standing tall in all his half-horse-half-man glory. They were staring each-other down with the most respectful sort of brotherly distaste that a centaur and a god could manage.
